


Pick Your Poison

by CrystalLifestream (AlleyCatSunflower)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, F/M, Fade to Black, Humor, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret - Freeform, Not Canon Compliant, Seduction, Sex Without Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 08:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyCatSunflower/pseuds/CrystalLifestream
Summary: “The role of femme fatale does not suit you, my dear,” said Ardyn, caressing Lunafreya’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I much preferred you as ingénue.” Yet still he permitted her to lean down and kiss him.As it turns out, seducing the chancellor of Niflheim is more easily said than done… but, given that her fiancé’s safety may hang in the balance, Lunafreya is determined. And Ardyn can’t be totally against the idea, or he wouldn’t have taken her out to the opera. Or listened when she asked him to pull into a lovers’ lane instead of driving her to safety. Or taught her how a simple kiss could be so—wait, who exactly is doing the seducing here?





	Pick Your Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Lunardyn Week: Day Five (“Secret Relationship”). Decidedly independent from all my other Lunardyn stories, with the least basis in canon out of them all, but I tried to make it as compliant as possible anyway. The closest I can get to categorizing this is Romance with elements of Humor and Drama, but “romance” still isn’t quite the word I would use. This also doesn’t qualify as smut, but… rated M for general raunchiness. Contains some spoilers re: the Oracle’s fate, but doesn’t address any major plot points.

Contrary to what Lunafreya told herself, it wasn't the wish to protect her fiancé at any cost that initially lured her from the path of virtue. Rather, it was her insatiable curiosity and taste for the unusual. It must have been, or she'd never have accepted such an odd request from Chancellor Izunia of all people in the first place.

 _My favorite opera is finally in season, and I haven't anyone to go with me,_  he had lamented, and she could practically hear his melodramatic tone through his handwriting.  _Might you be interested? Yours very sincerely,_ _ **Ardyn.**_ Yet there was no imperial insignia, no title or surname attached to his signature, and no indication how he had found her. To the casual observer, he was simply an old friend reaching out.

Of course, Lunafreya knew better than to think such an invitation was as innocuous as it seemed. If the Chancellor of Niflheim had managed to track her to this motel, then the imperial troops were not far behind. Better to respond to his invitation in the affirmative, and admit defeat gracefully rather than risk involving innocent citizens in any sort of altercation. She could and would devise another plan to escape the Empire if necessary.

With a heavy heart and careful hand, Lunafreya wrote out her reply:  _That sounds wonderful. When shall I expect you? **Lunafreya.**_  In light of the fact that Ardyn had left her no address, she entrusted her note to the receptionist, requesting that it be delivered to the sender if he returned. (She seemed perplexed, as anyone should be, but kindly agreed.)

And, to Lunafreya's astonishment, no more than an hour passed before a housekeeper delivered his response:  _I shall come for you at six o'clock this evening. Be a good girl and wait for me._ _ **Ardyn.**_ — _P.S. Be sure to dress for the occasion. The less recognizably, the better._

 _That_  gave her pause. If Ardyn didn't mean to use his invitation as an excuse to convince her to surrender, what did he intend? He couldn't possibly mean to take her out to the opera tonight in a literal sense. Officially or unofficially, her destiny had placed them on opposite sides of a war. No performance could possibly be important enough to bridge that gap.

Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, and there was no time to waste: Lunafreya resolved to do as Ardyn asked.

Thankfully, she already had a look in mind. She'd ducked into an abandoned thrift shop on her way out of Insomnia in order to avoid being recognized, and she was going to get her guilt's worth out of that looted clothing. After a long shower to wash off the doubt, center herself, and ensure her legs were  _perfectly_  smooth, she took inventory.

A little black dress with a flared skirt and sheer underskirt, shorter than Lunafreya remembered when she'd tried it on, but still acceptable. Old black velvet stilettos, straps wrapped double just above her ankles. Underwear dark enough to match them both, stolen new from a different store.

That had been enough to make her look like any other unfortunate partygoer on the day of the treaty. But, as Lunafreya stared herself down in the mirror, she couldn't help but think she looked a little too plain for the  _opera_.

She hesitated, then took out her makeup bag for the first time in months. Ironically, dressing to kill might be the perfect disguise. No Oracle would ever dress to impress anyone but the gods; even if she turned heads, they would see only an ordinary woman. And a part of her wondered whether she might be able to use that to her advantage somehow, perhaps slipping away from Ardyn before he got used to her altered appearance.

That, more than anything else, settled it. After braiding her hair with newfound resolution, Lunafreya set to work twisting it into an elegant bun. Once it was arranged to her satisfaction, which took several attempts, she opened up her makeup bag. She didn't carry much, but she may as well use what little she had.

The only tube of lipstick she had ever owned, dark red and still almost untouched. Mascara, waterproof to counteract any operatic tragedies. The very last of a bottle of sparkling nail polish, silver to match her necklace. (No engagement ring. It didn't match anything else she was wearing, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to think she was going to marry  _Ardyn Izunia_.)

With that, after ensuring that her suitcase was packed in preparation for an early start tomorrow, Lunafreya was ready.

She had never thought much of her own appearance, but as she examined herself in the mirror, she supposed she looked fine for short notice. At the very least, she wouldn't embarrass herself… or Ardyn. She couldn't afford to get on his bad side, least of all before she understood his motivation. And that brought her back, full circle, to her unrest: what in the name of the Six could he be planning?

Glancing anxiously at the clock, Lunafreya found that Ardyn would not arrive for another half hour at least, and sat down at the desk. To pass the time, she began composing a response to her brother's latest assertion that Noctis was unworthy. Keeping herself occupied was of paramount importance, as was reminding her of everything she stood for, and why she opposed the Empire. Her certainty in her course must be restored.

Lunafreya had just finished addressing the envelope in which she put her miraculously complete letter when the knock finally came. Butterflies fluttered to life in her stomach, and she took a deep breath as she approached the door. Looking cautiously through the peephole, she half expected to see imperial troops, ready to take her back into custody—but instead, she saw a single silhouette.

Unlocking and opening the door cautiously, she found Ardyn alone… and dressed to the nines.

Perhaps it was only in the interest of remaining incognito, but he had donned a three-piece suit—black, pinstriped, and almost alarmingly crisp compared to his usual threadbare ensemble and shabby hat. The jacket he wore over it was somewhat longer than was fashionable these days, and faded enough that it must have been some years older, but his outfit suited him rather well overall. All the better, oddly, for his  _still_  not having shaved.

"You look lovely, Lady Lunafreya, as always," said Ardyn, smiling faintly and bowing as her attention finally returned to his face. (The heat rose to her cheeks; how long had she been staring?) "Though I'm afraid your attire puts mine to shame. Perhaps I should have been more careful what I asked for."

"I—I'm sure you're mistaken, Chancellor," said Lunafreya, shaking her head, and shifted her grip on the door. "But if I might ask, what is this really about?"

Ardyn tilted his head. "My dear, sometimes an invitation is simply an invitation," he said, in condescending patience. "I only meant to ensure your safety and well-being, and to deliver news of your betrothed. Believe it or not, there  _are_  those among the Empire that wish you well."

Lunafreya was not convinced. "I see."

"That, and I've heard that the Empire intends to raid these premises tonight in search of you," continued Ardyn, his tone still maddeningly conversational even as cold fear stopped Lunafreya's heart and flared out to her fingertips. "Won't you come away with me for the evening? It'll be well worth your while."

There was a short pause as Lunafreya reminded herself to breathe. "I suppose I have no choice, then."

Ardyn chuckled. "You needn't sound so apprehensive, my lady. If you'd rather I simply drive you to the next safe place, and attend the opera on my own, I'd be happy to oblige. I have a  _preference_ , of course, but that is nothing to yours."

Lunafreya frowned. Apparently, not only had Ardyn meant his offer literally, but he intended to go out tonight regardless of whether she accompanied him. Not that she had spent a great deal of time considering his taste in theatrical productions, but she certainly hadn't thought him an opera enthusiast to such a degree. "Which opera?"

" _The Troubadour_ ," replied Ardyn, smiling as if pleased she had asked. "Mistaken identities! Brotherly rivalries! Star-crossed lovers! This one's got it all." He paused, studying her expression. "Would you like to see it for yourself, my lady, or would you prefer I merely act as your chauffeur?"

Hesitating, Lunafreya weighed her options. At the very least, Ardyn's invitation was unquestionably intriguing. If he was so insistent on taking time off from his duties as chancellor to see an opera, especially if he had gone to the trouble of inviting her specially, perhaps there was some hidden message from which she could derive some sort of benefit.

And besides, even knowing Ardyn to be a dangerous man, few others had ever captured and commanded Lunafreya's attention in such a way. She had always been extraordinarily skilled at reading people, but he remained a complete mystery—all the more so in light of his suggestions tonight. The prospects of getting to know him better, ally or enemy, were undeniably appealing: as long as her life was not in danger, she had little to lose.

"I would be honored to accompany you, sir."

Ardyn's expression brightened, and Lunafreya's heart swelled in a strange combination of regret and anticipation. "I hope you enjoy the show as much as I will," he said, reaching out to assist her with her suitcase, and led the way to his car without further ado. "But first—let's have some dinner, hmm?"

* * *

Interesting as it was trying to navigate small talk and avoid smearing her lipstick during dinner, their shared meal was nothing to the performance afterwards.

True to Ardyn's words,  _The Troubadour_  was an uncommonly exciting opera, if any opera could be said to be exciting. More to the point, it fascinated Lunafreya in a way she could not begin to explain. Often, she felt Ardyn's eyes on her face, silently observing her reactions, and taking note of the shockingly obvious connections to her own situation.

As the story progressed, Lunafreya found herself identifying with the heroine more and more, until finally she was brought to tears at an aria to her fiancé, imprisoned by a jealous count. She shivered at the low chant of the holy order performing the protagonist's last rites. And she stared openmouthed as the heroine declared her intentions to save him by any means necessary.

_You will see—never on earth has there been a stronger love than mine; it conquered destiny in bitter strife, and it shall conquer death itself! Either at the cost of my life I shall save your life or, forever united with you, I shall go down into the grave!_

…Or, to spare her love, the heroine would… apparently… offer her hand in marriage to the count she loathed.

At this, Lunafreya could not help but glance sideways at Ardyn, who sat observing the scene with no small amount of interest. Having been connecting the plot to her own situation, it was all too easy to see that he held Noctis's life in his hands, much like the villain of this particular story. And that Lunafreya may well possess more power to help her fiancé than she thought.

Thankfully, the shift in scene distracted her before she could think much more on that. But of course, not everything went according to plan.

The protagonist at first denounced the heroine as unfaithful for having made such a bargain. However, he repented upon realizing she had secretly drunk poison to remain loyal to him. Staying by her side rather than saving himself as she died, he was reunited with his lover in the afterlife as the count had him executed. Only then did the villain discover that he had inadvertently killed his own, long-lost brother.

And just like that, the curtain fell. As deafening applause met Lunafreya's ears, Ardyn took her arm half-gently, escorting her away amid the tumult. Still, her head remained in the clouds, and her heart on the stage. Though the plot had diverged somewhat from her personal situation in the end, she could not shake the feeling that there were more similarities than may have been apparent at first glance.

Still, most important of all was that half-formed idea humming in the back of her mind, unshakeable despite Lunafreya's best efforts. She was dying as surely as if she too had drunk poison, but she may yet have the time and strength to help Noctis. Had that connection been why Ardyn brought her here…?

"That was very nicely done," commented Ardyn, as they breezed outside. "But no production can ever be as good as its opening night, some centuries ago. The original cast had to repeat the entire last act as an encore to satisfy their audience, as I recall." He spoke as if he had been there, but Lunafreya could not respond, even to remark upon his phrasing, still reliving half the story. But Ardyn did not seem to expect a reply, and they lapsed back into silence.

As they finally reached the car, she realized she had not yet thanked Ardyn, and cleared her throat. Where were her manners? "Thank you for a lovely evening," said Lunafreya finally, but her voice was so distant that she sounded far less sincere than she felt, and strove to clarify. "I apologize for my silence. The performance was rather more… thought-provoking… than I anticipated, and I am still processing all the events."

"Oh, it's perfectly all right," smiled Ardyn, opening the passenger door for her—but Lunafreya took the back seat instead, as she had on the way there. He had been watching her closely enough already without her sitting beside him the rest of the way to their destination, and something about his stare discomfited her as little else had ever done.

Perhaps it was because of his ability to pierce through the image she projected, to the uncertainty within. The uncertainty he seemed to draw out.

The car rumbled to life, stirring Lunafreya out of her thoughts, but did not move. Ardyn pursed his lips as if debating something, then sighed. "I don't like putting up the top when the weather is clear," he said, removing his coat. (After a short pause, he took off his suit jacket as well, leaving only his vest and shirtsleeves—no tie. She had never seen him wearing so few layers.) "The temperature hasn't bothered me in years, but I'm afraid  _you_  might catch a chill."

As Ardyn handed his coat back to Lunafreya, she had little choice but to accept it, and spread it across her lap like a blanket. The fabric was still warm, and it smelled like him. Its scent was unidentifiable, at once foreign and familiar, relaxing and… arousing. Lunafreya shuddered as Ardyn pulled out of the parking space and into the street. "Wh-where are you taking me now?"

"Just the next town over," said Ardyn, ignoring her slight hesitation, and the wind picked up with their speed, ruffling Lunafreya's hair. Though the night must have been cold, it did not affect her. His coat kept the worst of it out… and besides that, a peculiar fire had sparked to life in her core, spreading its heat throughout her body. "The inn there was the last place the army checked, and I'm sure there'll be a few vacancies. You should be safe for a time."

There was a long silence, full of possibility, as Lunafreya weighed her options. The opera had proven far more enlightening than she anticipated, the unexpected key to a door that had been locked for years and bolted with conscientious propriety. But something about Ardyn's company seemed to inspire in her a fiery recklessness she had tried, and evidently failed, to suppress. This was fight-or-flight, and Lunafreya found that her response was increasingly more do-or-die.

She had never felt such a rash desire to demonstrate the strength of her conviction before—to Ardyn, to the Empire, even to herself. If she couldn't bring herself to sacrifice even a  _part_  of her life, how could she prove to herself that she had the courage to sacrifice her entire being? Just by walking through that open door, Lunafreya could easily show that nothing the Empire did to her could ever break her spirit, and imply herself capable of much more.

And, of course, perhaps she could earn Noctis a few favors.

Lunafreya found herself equal parts frightened and exhilarated at the suddenness of her decision. Ordinarily, such an ambitious plan might require significantly more preparation, but she was afraid that the longer she waited, the more time she would have to second-guess herself. And besides, she had no idea when or even  _whether_  she would meet Ardyn again.

In a way, that realization gave Lunafreya the final boost of courage she needed. She need not attach any strings to get her way. She need only test the waters for now, and see where the rest of the night took them both: no price was too high to pay for peace, or for love.

Lunafreya glanced out the window to compose herself, and only then noticed the view. The road had led them high, circling upward so that the city sparkled below them like an artificial galaxy. It was nothing to the former glory of Insomnia, of course, but it was enough to move her. And, thankfully, to relax her before she initiated the conversation that could go anywhere.

It was now or never. "Chancellor?"

"Call me Ardyn."

"Ardyn," amended Lunafreya after a short pause, disarmed at the promptness of his interjection. He must have been expecting her to speak, for some reason. "Can we please stop for a short while?"

"Are you hungry?" asked Ardyn, glancing back at her. "I apologize; I lost track of time. Unfortunately, I don't make a habit of keeping snacks in the glovebox, so you'll have to wait until we're back in civilization."

Lunafreya had no doubt that she was in fact hungry, but her appetite seemed to have vanished in anticipation of her next move. "Actually, I'm fine. But thank you for your concern. I just thought… it's a beautiful night, and this place has a breathtaking view of the town below."

Ardyn's eyes burned into her again, perhaps in surprise this time, and he said nothing. Lunafreya half thought he suspected her unseemly scheme, and had resolved to ignore her… but instead, he pulled wordlessly into the next turnout, on the other side of the road. It was somewhat larger than most of the others along this road, but still unpaved and unmarked, lit only by full moonlight.

"Now," said Ardyn, turning in his seat to half face her, "what is this really about?"

"Sometimes a request is simply a request," said Lunafreya. "But will you not come and sit next to me? I feel… awkward… speaking to you from back here."

Ardyn laughed. "You could just as easily come up here."

Lunafreya hadn't thought of that. "I—I'm sorry, but I can't," she said, staring at her hands clasped in her lap. "My few experiences in the front seats of automobiles haven't been particularly enjoyable. It feels… safer… back here." Given her experiences in Insomnia, this was not, strictly speaking, a lie. Still, the quality of the ensuing silence was skeptical enough that Lunafreya was certain Ardyn didn't believe her.

The first hint she had of his answer was his door opening. "As you wish, then," said Ardyn, stepping over the side of the car and sliding into the seat beside her. "Far be it from me to make you uncomfortable." Though his eyes lingered intently on her face, perhaps trying to discern her true motive—or perhaps already aware of it—he said nothing further, waiting patiently for her to continue.

"Earlier, you told me you had news of Noctis."

"I do indeed," returned Ardyn. "I had been going to explain on our way, but you seemed deep in reflection. I didn't want to disturb you."

"My apologies," said Lunafreya. "I was… lost in thought." To put it lightly.

"No harm done," said Ardyn. "Now seems as good a time as any to tell you what I know." He leaned back in his seat to look up at the night sky. "At last count, His Highness's royal chariot—so to speak—has fallen into Imperial hands. I have reason to believe that he and his friends will try to retrieve it soon."

"And what do you intend to do when that happens?" asked Lunafreya, shifting in place, and leaned slightly closer to him. If she was lucky, he would take it only as a sign of interest in his response, and not shy away from her.

So far, so good: Ardyn sat his ground. "Why, whatever I must, my lady," he said, rolling his head to the side to look at her, and raised his eyebrows. "I do have a reputation to uphold, you know, and what kind of chancellor would I be if I let the Chosen King get away from me?"

"Yet you helped me tonight," said Lunafreya, scooting closer more conspicuously now. "You could have let the Empire find me, or turned me in yourself, but you didn't. Why help the Oracle escape, if your loyalty is to Niflheim alone?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, my dear," said Ardyn, a smile playing about his lips. "The night is young. I may yet change my mind."

Tentatively, Lunafreya crawled still closer, positioning herself slightly over him. Let her desperation serve as bait. "I want so badly to believe the best of you," she murmured. "Please don't prove me wrong." Ardyn's breathing remained even as he regarded Lunafreya with guarded interest, but it seemed to her that he was forcing it—and that was as much encouragement as she could hope to receive.

Sure enough, she encountered no resistance as she moved Ardyn's coat aside and slowly climbed onto his lap, resting a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she straddled his legs. Even sitting as far away from him as possible under the circumstances, balanced on his knees, their proximity could only be described as indecorous.

Lunafreya shuddered despite herself as Ardyn shifted slightly beneath her; she had never been so close to a man. And something about this one in particular was especially electrifying.

Ardyn gave a laughlike breath. "Well,  _this_  is an unexpected development," he remarked, his tone just dry enough that Lunafreya knew he meant just the opposite. How long had he known her intentions? Had he bet on this ever since he had invited her to the opera? She found herself grateful for the moonlight to soften her burning blush. "What would your fiancé say?"

A pang gripped Lunafreya's heart at his mention of Noctis, but she drove him from her mind. "I have hope that he'll forgive me, in the end," she said, resting her wrists on Ardyn's shoulders in half an embrace. "Please. Call off the army. Ensure that the Chosen King and his comrades arrive safely in Altissia." She paused to search his face. "I beg of you."

Sitting up with a smile, Ardyn cupped her chin. "Or else… what?"

Lunafreya frowned, brought up short. From what little she knew of seduction, Ardyn was supposed to ask why he should obey, not why he  _shouldn't_. And, judging by his knowing smile, he had intended to thwart her in just such a way. "The role of femme fatale does not suit you, my dear," he said, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I much preferred you as ingénue."

Yet still he permitted Lunafreya to lean down and kiss him.

It was a desperate impulse, and her lips trembled, but she persisted. Having ignored all her bodily desire and saved herself up until now, all her kisses had been familial in nature, and she hadn't the faintest idea how to deepen them. Thankfully, Ardyn was a man of some years, even if their exact number eluded her, and he could presumably teach her.

But he didn't. Instead, he took Lunafreya's throat in one hand, forcing her back, and she gasped at the roughness of his touch. He must be able to feel her frantic heartbeat, fingers resting on her pulse points. "Careful, my lady," murmured Ardyn, gazing intently into her eyes, and she shivered. "Daemons are stronger at night. Turn back while you still can."

He was not restricting her air flow by any means, but Lunafreya found it difficult to breathe all the same as her perception sharpened. Ardyn filled every one of her senses so that she could not feel anything else, least of all regret. She had to say something, she realized, and swallowed: his fingers twitched at the movement. "Yet still they flee the Oracle's blessing. Will you not accept the trade I offer…?"

Ardyn's response did not come in words: Lunafreya trailed off as he slid his hand around to the back of her neck, guiding her head back down again. Their mouths brushed—lightly at first, a simple touch. His stubble rubbed against her skin like a cat's tongue, but she had little time to dwell on the discomfort before the lesson began.

As Ardyn's lips parted beneath hers, coaxing hers to follow suit, Lunafreya's breath caught, and her heart seemed to beat backwards. His mouth was wet against hers, inquisitive, undulating, softer and warmer than she ever could have imagined. A chill like a fever swept through her whole being as she understood all at once, without any cumbersome words, how all-consuming a mere kiss could truly be.

But just as Lunafreya began to relax into Ardyn's oddly tender touch, he withdrew again. As he moistened his lips as if savoring some sort of flavor, their eyes locked, and she blushed. "Is that poison I taste?"

Lunafreya let out a short sigh at his pointed words, glancing aside self-consciously. She might have known he would ask such a thing. "I have no need of poison. I have a calling to fulfill, and I know full well it comes at the cost of my life." And  _this_  was a much smaller sacrifice, all things considered.

"Then why throw yourself away on me in the meantime?" asked Ardyn, tilting his head, and his eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "If you believe that seducing me will advance your cause, then by all means, lead me into temptation. But you of all people should know that covenants ought never to be entered into lightl—!"

Fearing that her conviction would ebb away if she lapsed into passiveness, Lunafreya interrupted Ardyn with another kiss, forcing him to swallow the rest of his sentence. She could not afford to back down now.

It took Ardyn only a moment to recover from the shock before he rose to the occasion. Half drawing back, he scooped at her lips with his own, leading her a pretty dance as she chased him forward. As his hands pressed against her lower back, light and then more insistent, Lunafreya slid closer to him instinctively, and was rewarded with a faint vocalization low in his throat as their torsos brushed.

If she had allowed herself time enough to expect anything, she'd have expected to count the seconds and dread the minutes until Ardyn was done with her… but instead, she was captivated. His touch was at once clumsy and experienced, almost calculated, yet fueled by an insatiable thirst. Suppressed and subdued, but  _there_ , and contagious.

Lunafreya twitched as a rush of peculiar giddiness surged through her body, a throbbing out of sync with her racing heartbeat. To feel for herself the effect such simple movements could have on them both, the call-and-response of impulsive sensuality, was far more empowering than she ever could have guessed. This was not love; it couldn't be—and yet the flutter in her belly, the tremor of her body against his, this irrepressible spark growing hotter below—how long had it been since it had begun?

Something shifted tangibly between them, and Lunafreya inhaled sharply at the  _physicality_  of the sensation, unsure whether to press on or draw back. Ardyn took advantage of her hesitation, gripping her shoulders to place some small distance between them. "I don't think you understand your situation, Lady Lunafreya," he growled, half panting, and his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. "You may find that I am not to your taste. I am not a gentle man."

"And I am not a fragile woman."

Ardyn raised his eyebrows. "Fragile, no. _Foolish_ , yes. I'd have expected a former princess to have a little more caution." He smiled lazily, sliding one of his hands farther down, and Lunafreya jumped as he pinched one of her buttocks. (Testing her reflexes, she presumed.) "This is no place for a lady such as yourself to lose her innocence."

"My innocence was lost the day Niflheim took Tenebrae."

"And now you're asking me to take _you_ ," said Ardyn, his other fingers finding and toying with the zipper on the back of Lunafreya's dress. "So it seems history repeats itself—only Tenebrae was never dressed for the opera in the back of my automobile. Shall I make you sing?"

Lunafreya swallowed, another thrill coursing through her body at his low and lascivious tone, nothing like his usual exaggerated inflections. "D-do you swear to help Noctis and his companions reach Altissia safely?"

Ardyn inclined his head, his eyes trained on Lunafreya's face, more seriously now. "I give you my word. The prince and his retinue will reach Altissia alive, and I will do all I can to help them on their way."

Lunafreya frowned. "You said you'd do whatever you must."

"And so I shall," said Ardyn. "But I am the  _chancellor_ , my dear, and that means I decide what must be done. I had never intended to stop the Chosen King or his companions, but I confess, your dedication has moved me to further measures."

If there had been any doubt as to the meaning of Ardyn's words, it disappeared with the emphatic roll of his hips. Lunafreya gasped at the heat of sudden friction, but clung to one realization amid her scattering thoughts. "Y-you… hadn't been going to stop them?"

Ardyn chuckled. "Are you so surprised?" he asked, deft fingers plucking pins out of Lunafreya's hair so that her braid fell out of its bun, unsecured, unraveling like her composure. "I serve the Empire only as well as it serves me, and lately, it has left much to be desired. You yourself observed that I could have captured you, too, but I didn't."

 _That_  was very much subjective, and Ardyn must have been aware of the implications, but Lunafreya chose not to comment on them. "You told me you might change your mind."

Smiling, Ardyn shook his head. "Ah, but since then, you've repaid my kindness with such  _extravagant_  thanks," he said, kneading her left breast, and Lunafreya was certain he could feel her heart lurch into a gallop. "It seems in poor taste to betray you now. All the more so if the best is yet to come."

For all his assertiveness, there was the slightest hesitation in Ardyn's manner, a question in his eyes, a subtle challenge or perhaps a deferential sort of dare. Lunafreya knew, through some means she could not explain, that he would wait for her explicit permission before proceeding any further. That, more than anything else, assuaged her many doubts. This was  _her_  decision.

Every one of Lunafreya's rational instincts cried out that she should back down, but they seemed strangely muffled compared to the overwhelming compulsion to finish what she had started. It seemed her body contained within it a new, powerful kind of intuition, yet it remained entirely untapped. And, driven no longer by logical thought but by illogical fascination, she yearned to explore it.

Somehow, it seemed unfathomable to put any more distance between them, to shrink back into the chill of the night with only a coat for company. How could Lunafreya sit silently in the back seat as Ardyn drove her the rest of the way to safety, as though nothing had happened between them? She had already made her bed, and now she longed to lie in it.

"Yes," said Lunafreya, the affirmative falling automatically from her lips, and she settled impossibly closer to Ardyn. His eyelids fluttered at the motion, and again she felt a stirring, inside and out; a final solidification of lopsided yet still mutual lust, uncoiling between and within them like a venomous snake. "You have my gratitude. For everything."

To prove it, she leaned down and kissed him again, thoughts fragmenting as their lips met. Seamless this time, less like an interruption, and more like another part of the conversation—a deal sealed, a bargain struck. Spirits willing and flesh weakening, kisses strung together and spilling over edges, neither time nor space for breath. Sandpaper on skin as his cheek brushed hers on his way to her neck… and then, he caught himself.

"Well then," said Ardyn, his voice somewhat weaker than usual, and cleared his throat almost awkwardly. (Lunafreya shivered as his breath ghosted across her upper chest.) "It seems that's been settled."

His lips brushed her collarbone as he spoke, but he made no further moves; Lunafreya frowned petulantly, half dazed. She couldn't help but feel, even without remembering to  _think,_  that she had regressed to a pouting child kept from her dessert. She understood why some called this a need, now, as primal as hunger. But had he lost interest already…?

"A-Ardyn," said Lunafreya, running her fingers through his hair. "Why did you st— _ah_!"

Her question became a breathless cry as he grasped her wrists, throwing her aside onto the narrow seat. Before she could so much as react, he pushed her down, more with his hips than his hands. Almost half her body hung off the side, her hand drooping to the floor, but her discomfort barely registered in her consciousness. Her every nerve felt electrified, her desire thunderous, in anticipation of the coming storm.

And in response to the pressure of his groin on her thigh.

"Just savoring the moment," murmured Ardyn, answering the question Lunafreya had already forgotten, and his voice lowered to a husky whisper. "I haven't had anyone in  _ages_."

How ironic that it was  _his_  vulnerability, however slight, that caused the last of  _her_  defenses to crumble. And, as he slid one hand up her thigh… kept hold of her wrist with the other… rippled against her… pressed his lips to hers, more passionately still… her final lingering doubts disappeared.

Every sensation stood out yet also blurred together so that Lunafreya lost track of time. It felt so wonderful to be craved, to be tasted, even to be devoured, as Ardyn's mouth began wandering. Let her serve as his sustenance; she would take a part of him away with her, too. Something she might be able to use someday, whether he meant her to or not. That would be her ultimate triumph, worth every moment of halfhearted shame.

Shame. A shame Noctis had never even had the chance to look at her like this, she thought—the last she'd think of him for some time. Lunafreya couldn't even imagine his face clearly, with Ardyn's now buried in the crook of her neck, kissing her skin so insistently she felt sure it would leave a mark. Still, her fiancé's very existence was enough to remind her of something, a guilty ache she hadn't noticed and was sure she'd feel much more acutely in the morning.

But for now, she didn't want any distractions.

"One more thing," whispered Lunafreya, knotting her fingers in Ardyn's hair, and he paused to listen. She had little choice but to throw herself on his mercy, and pray that her request would be precaution enough. "Don't tell anyone."

He smiled into her skin, and she winced at the prickle. "It'll be our little secret."

**Author's Note:**

> …Because the concept of attending an opera and then fucking in the back of a convertible struck me as perfectly epitomizing the classy/trashy duality of this pairing as a whole.
> 
> Incidentally, the opera they attend is Verdi’s “Il Trovatore”, in case y’all wanna check that out, because it’s a good one. I have legit reasons to believe it’s Ardyn’s favorite. I mean, all seductions aside, it’s a long-game revenge story in which true love is thwarted and the villain is the only one who lives… after having his brother executed. Can’t get a lot more Izunian than that.


End file.
